Originally, my idea for this blog was for Matt and I to record our impressions of Houston as newcomers, and to compare them to Ben's thoughts about Berkeley. As these things tend to do, the organization never quite came together, and it was all we could do to jot down a few paragraphs here and there in the midst of all of the chaos of the move. An apology to all of our friends and family, because if there's anything less fun than moving, it must be reading about moving. Here then, is a break.
I think I had my first moment of culture shock last week. I had forgotten that the farther south one goes in the US, the greater the... how to phrase it... limits on one's reproductive choices? I know there are definitely exceptions, especially for some of the less populous northern Plains states, but I think it's a decent general rule. Because of an interesting insurance situation (the US health care system is the subject of many blogs I'm sure) I found myself at the Houston Planned Parenthood clinic for my annual exam and birth control prescription.
Here is the scene, as I arrive for my lunchtime appointment. The parking lot in front of the building is surrounded by a tall iron fence, with sharp-looking points at the top. There is no parking allowed in this lot, so I have to park across the street and walk over. Before I get to the door, I pass through a set of waist-high thick yellow concrete pillars, set presumably so that it would be impossible to drive a car into the front door of the building. Upon opening the door, I am confronted immediately with an a uniformed guard who takes my purse, examines the contents, and directs me through an airport-style metal detector. After passing through, I reach the building receptionist, who asks for my driver's license and records the number and my name, before directing me upstairs to the clinic reception.
After signing in, I scan the waiting room before taking a seat. There are two young black women with their boyfriends, who seemed to be happy to run into each other there and were having an animated conversation. A TV in the corner of the room is tuned to The Price is Right, and a bored-looking Hispanic man sits under it while watching a little girl play with the magazines on the table. Another woman, about my age, wears a long wool houndstooth coat, black pants, and pink shoes, and looks nervously at her watch.
Honestly, I could have giggled if not for the fresh memory of the stern guard downstairs. This... this is the reason for all of the security?? These run-of-the-mill people filling out forms and waiting for their names to be called? I am filled with exhilaration, hopelessness, and dread all at the same time. The only thing I have in common with the women in the room is a functioning uterus. And this is enough for iron fences, concrete pillars, security guards and metal detectors?? wow.
Tuesday, January 9, 2007
Tuesday, December 26, 2006
"Honey, where did you put... everything?"
I'd like to believe I'm not a materialistic person. We probably all would. But dammit, life is just better with a mattress and your own real pillow. Another week at least until our stuff gets here. Man, will our bed seem like heaven after almost 3 solid weeks on an aerobed. Anyway, thanks JR and Lori and Megan for posting and wishing us well! I must say the toughest part so far has definitely been having all of this empty time and space without friends or family (Need I mention over Christmas?). I work with great people and am lucky to have an amazing husband, but I'm really missing all of you guys ("all y'all" as it were). Matt was right, it will really hit us one evening soon when all we want to do is walk down to JR's for a drink. Somehow I think putting Bella on the bar to visit the people might be, um... frowned upon. Yeah and I miss her too. Little puddles and and all. We bought a little disposable digital camera when we first got here and have a few more pics to take, then we will post bunches. Love you and miss you all!!
Monday, December 25, 2006
...And to all a good night.
I went for a run today. Dani got me a new rain jacket for when I ride my bike and I thought I would take for a test.
Not a lot of people out today. It was just me and the homeless guys. That may have to do with the fact that it's Christmas day downtown in Houston. And that fact that it's about 40 degrees, with gale force winds. Not a great day to run but it's a great way to explore the new city. With in a block we have a beer pub, Sub shop, Latin, 2 Italians, a place called fresh express, an Indian place, Chipotle, 2 clubs (maybe 3 we aren't quite sure), and 2 connivance stores. At 4 blocks you add a movie theatre, a CVS drug store, Corner Bakery, and a Macy's. That's actually allot more than we expected. And there is growth everywhere.
So what does all this mean? Well it's got me thinking about livability. I had a conversation with someone who shall remain nameless when Dani go this job. I said we were looking forward to the change, and it was a good career move for Dani, etc, etc. And he said, "Ya, but I think there's a huge quality of life difference."
At first I agreed, but it got me thinking; how do you define quality of life? What makes a good place to live? I think it has more to do with how you live than where you live. Interestingly enough, the person I was talking to lives in Parker. Not to dog Parker but.... Well, ya to dog Parker: I mean come on Man: Honestly I can't think of any place that has all the same negatives that Houston has: You have to drive everywhere, houses are huge and cheap, sprawl rules. How is Parker better than Houston? Humidity, altitude? Is that all you got?
And I think of other conversations that I had with friends in the past when they moved. One to Nebraska, the other to Wyoming. And I brought up similar arguments. Is it time to eat my own words? Take back the things I said about those other places? Probably. In the end my bias comes mostly from he fact that I miss them and didn't want them to leave. (so, I'm sorry J&J) But that's unfair. People need to seek their own destinies, and as friends travel across the country, it gives us more places to visit. And more stories to share when we get together in the years down the road.
But it still doesn't answer quality of life. And here comes my revelation: It doesn't exist. You can have a high quality of life, or a low quality of life where ever you are. And the biggest factor is money. Ya, none of us like to admit it, but it does matter. Money allows you to shape the reality of life where you live and that does matter for quality. Don't believe me? Try to live in Breckenridge on $50 a week. The place has great quality of life, right?
The second part is what I don't know. So you have a little disposable income, that doesn't mean you are happy? I don't know. I knew people who never seemed to be happy where ever they were. They transferred schools 3 times; moved to California and came back; failed out of school and joined the Navy. There was some intangible thing that they couldn't quite describe, but the knew they didn't have. So They didn't have quality of life, right? I can't really say that either. I also know people who can never very from a seat on a barstool. The only thing that changes is the world around them and they seem happy as clams. Seems like it's a moving target, and it's very personable.
Good thing I'm here. I came up with a formula. You do things like this when you don't have TV, or furniture, or silverware. Here it is: Take the number of times you smile in a day, divide it by the farthest you can run flat out without wavering. Add the number of people you have on speed dial in your phone (not counting family). Plus the number of hobbies, Times the numbers of inside jokes you know. Take the whole thing to the 3 power and put it over the number of X's in your life (X wife, X boyfriend, X con, etc) What does that give you?
Haven't you been reading this? I have no idea.
Bullet points:
1. Dani and I love good food. Houston has very good food. So far we are happy.
2. I haven't started missing my friends yet. That's going to hit on a Wednesday night in January when I realize I can't just stroll over and see JR. and when I begin to forget what Greg's laugh sounds like.
3. Running here is great. God bless all my high altitude training. ;)
Not a lot of people out today. It was just me and the homeless guys. That may have to do with the fact that it's Christmas day downtown in Houston. And that fact that it's about 40 degrees, with gale force winds. Not a great day to run but it's a great way to explore the new city. With in a block we have a beer pub, Sub shop, Latin, 2 Italians, a place called fresh express, an Indian place, Chipotle, 2 clubs (maybe 3 we aren't quite sure), and 2 connivance stores. At 4 blocks you add a movie theatre, a CVS drug store, Corner Bakery, and a Macy's. That's actually allot more than we expected. And there is growth everywhere.
So what does all this mean? Well it's got me thinking about livability. I had a conversation with someone who shall remain nameless when Dani go this job. I said we were looking forward to the change, and it was a good career move for Dani, etc, etc. And he said, "Ya, but I think there's a huge quality of life difference."
At first I agreed, but it got me thinking; how do you define quality of life? What makes a good place to live? I think it has more to do with how you live than where you live. Interestingly enough, the person I was talking to lives in Parker. Not to dog Parker but.... Well, ya to dog Parker: I mean come on Man: Honestly I can't think of any place that has all the same negatives that Houston has: You have to drive everywhere, houses are huge and cheap, sprawl rules. How is Parker better than Houston? Humidity, altitude? Is that all you got?
And I think of other conversations that I had with friends in the past when they moved. One to Nebraska, the other to Wyoming. And I brought up similar arguments. Is it time to eat my own words? Take back the things I said about those other places? Probably. In the end my bias comes mostly from he fact that I miss them and didn't want them to leave. (so, I'm sorry J&J) But that's unfair. People need to seek their own destinies, and as friends travel across the country, it gives us more places to visit. And more stories to share when we get together in the years down the road.
But it still doesn't answer quality of life. And here comes my revelation: It doesn't exist. You can have a high quality of life, or a low quality of life where ever you are. And the biggest factor is money. Ya, none of us like to admit it, but it does matter. Money allows you to shape the reality of life where you live and that does matter for quality. Don't believe me? Try to live in Breckenridge on $50 a week. The place has great quality of life, right?
The second part is what I don't know. So you have a little disposable income, that doesn't mean you are happy? I don't know. I knew people who never seemed to be happy where ever they were. They transferred schools 3 times; moved to California and came back; failed out of school and joined the Navy. There was some intangible thing that they couldn't quite describe, but the knew they didn't have. So They didn't have quality of life, right? I can't really say that either. I also know people who can never very from a seat on a barstool. The only thing that changes is the world around them and they seem happy as clams. Seems like it's a moving target, and it's very personable.
Good thing I'm here. I came up with a formula. You do things like this when you don't have TV, or furniture, or silverware. Here it is: Take the number of times you smile in a day, divide it by the farthest you can run flat out without wavering. Add the number of people you have on speed dial in your phone (not counting family). Plus the number of hobbies, Times the numbers of inside jokes you know. Take the whole thing to the 3 power and put it over the number of X's in your life (X wife, X boyfriend, X con, etc) What does that give you?
Haven't you been reading this? I have no idea.
Bullet points:
1. Dani and I love good food. Houston has very good food. So far we are happy.
2. I haven't started missing my friends yet. That's going to hit on a Wednesday night in January when I realize I can't just stroll over and see JR. and when I begin to forget what Greg's laugh sounds like.
3. Running here is great. God bless all my high altitude training. ;)
Thursday, December 21, 2006
It's true what they say about the food.
It's good. All of it. Even the corner Thai place that everyone in your office goes to for lunch is awesome. I knew this, and I had serious concerns for my waistline. For the most part, they have been realized as I have not stopped eating since we got out of the car 5 days ago. Having said that, I have made an important discovery. You see, when the standards for cuisine are this high, everything is good. Meaning, it's not just the BBQ and fried chicken (God bless Oklahoma) that will bring you back with your mouth watering. I've had romano-crusted asparagus in lemon sauce, wok-seared curry tofu with hot crisp string beans, garlic pepper chicken breast on a bed of fresh shredded cabbage, taco salad with cilantro vinaigrette... I could go on. And I will. We will be closing on our loft tomorrow (we won't be harboring any nostalgia for the Westheimer Extended Stay) but will not have our "household goods" until January 3rd. So, other than cereal and whatever we can eat with paper plates and plasticware, we'll be exploring what Houston has to offer us in tasty, healthy food. Suggestions are welcome.
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
Houston gives us a warning
Houston, Day 2. After a morning of fast moving clouds, and slow moving cars. Houston decided to let me know what I was in for.
I had been out scoping a new office, when it started to rain. And I mean really rain. I've been through storms before. I lived in Colorado, we have rain so hard you can't see the end of the driveway. But only for 10 minutes. It started raining like that, then it didn't stop. 5 hours later it started to slow down. I don't know why I think the rain was so amazing. It was my first monsoon. Ok, mini monsoon.
But afterwards there was an explosion of sound coming from a tree right besides the street light that shines in the window if we don't carefully close the drapes. I can only describe it as a murder of crows, held up in the tree talking. It wasn't really crows. But a murder of chickadees just doesn't have the same ring. And they were so anxious, they could have only been discussing a murder. Or a really good seed. How do I know what they talk about?
But the rain was pretty cool. At least the first time. I imagine after a few months of rain it's going to get old.
I had been out scoping a new office, when it started to rain. And I mean really rain. I've been through storms before. I lived in Colorado, we have rain so hard you can't see the end of the driveway. But only for 10 minutes. It started raining like that, then it didn't stop. 5 hours later it started to slow down. I don't know why I think the rain was so amazing. It was my first monsoon. Ok, mini monsoon.
But afterwards there was an explosion of sound coming from a tree right besides the street light that shines in the window if we don't carefully close the drapes. I can only describe it as a murder of crows, held up in the tree talking. It wasn't really crows. But a murder of chickadees just doesn't have the same ring. And they were so anxious, they could have only been discussing a murder. Or a really good seed. How do I know what they talk about?
But the rain was pretty cool. At least the first time. I imagine after a few months of rain it's going to get old.
Sunday, December 17, 2006
The Approach
This was the road trip after the last road trip. Dani told me after our last experience driving of driving 1000 miles in a day, that she was done! 'No more. From here on out, we fly.' It really wasn't that bad of trip. We were in Chicago for Thanksgiving, and left at 7am to get back to Denver in 1 day. So, 15 hours, 1 ice storm, and 5 wrecks (none which we were involved in) later she is done with driving long distances. Fine by me.
Then she got a job in Houston. 5th fattest city in the country. I guess I can kissing seeing my feet goodbye. All and all things have been going well: we found a place we can afford, in an up and coming neighborhood, (oddly it's downtown. But that's another entry) I can work from here, and we are out of our lease in Denver.
So we drove down. Another 1050 miles on the car, and my ass. Our dog thinks we have become nomads. In the last month, she has lived in Chicago, Oklahoma, Denver, Frisco, and now back in Oklahoma. We are staying in plush hotel room till we close on our place on Friday, and maybe even till our stuff comes. No one knows when that will be. We though adding a tiny hotel room might be a bit hard on the bow wow.
But we had to get the car down here sometime, so it might as well be now, and together. That way my wife can show off her MP3 player loading skills. Remember mix tapes? It's the same kind of thing, except you aren't restricted to 90 minutes. So let the songs roll. Cake, to Glenn Miller, George Straight to Guns'n'Roses, Fugees to Louie Armstrong. My wife is nothing if not eclectic. We still aren't to the end of her player. We last left off with Meatloaf - Bat out of hell. That was a personal request from me. Great road trip song.
Enough wandering, here's the bullet points:
1. Bella (dog) is with Oma in Oklahoma while we Bella-proof our new place. Besides, her playing with the puppy gets us off the hook for grand kids for a little while longer.
2. Leaving Colorado was a little harder than I thought it would be.
3. Dallas is pretty close to Lawton, OK (where Oma lives). Dallas is a long damn ways from Houston. The road goes on and on. Texas is so big they gave up on naming towns. The just starting picking words at random from a dictionary. "Happy, TX? Smiley, TX? Jolly, TX?" Weren't they all dwarfs?
4. Houston is a long damn way from Houston. We hit the city limits and it was another 30 miles to the city.
5. The Galleria is a cool mall that is in a cool neighborhood built for 5,000 residents and guests. It attracts 50,000 people a day.
6. How is it possible to get stuck in 2 traffic jams on two different highways in 1 hour?
7. My wife is insane over a place called Braums. They make shakes. She loses her mind when she sees a pink ice cream cone on the side of the road.
8. I didn't pack enough clothing. Or I packed all the wrong stuff.
9. Finding the harbor on a Sunday afternoon was the best idea I've hand in years.
10. Right now Houston doesn't seem so bad.
all the love
Then she got a job in Houston. 5th fattest city in the country. I guess I can kissing seeing my feet goodbye. All and all things have been going well: we found a place we can afford, in an up and coming neighborhood, (oddly it's downtown. But that's another entry) I can work from here, and we are out of our lease in Denver.
So we drove down. Another 1050 miles on the car, and my ass. Our dog thinks we have become nomads. In the last month, she has lived in Chicago, Oklahoma, Denver, Frisco, and now back in Oklahoma. We are staying in plush hotel room till we close on our place on Friday, and maybe even till our stuff comes. No one knows when that will be. We though adding a tiny hotel room might be a bit hard on the bow wow.
But we had to get the car down here sometime, so it might as well be now, and together. That way my wife can show off her MP3 player loading skills. Remember mix tapes? It's the same kind of thing, except you aren't restricted to 90 minutes. So let the songs roll. Cake, to Glenn Miller, George Straight to Guns'n'Roses, Fugees to Louie Armstrong. My wife is nothing if not eclectic. We still aren't to the end of her player. We last left off with Meatloaf - Bat out of hell. That was a personal request from me. Great road trip song.
Enough wandering, here's the bullet points:
1. Bella (dog) is with Oma in Oklahoma while we Bella-proof our new place. Besides, her playing with the puppy gets us off the hook for grand kids for a little while longer.
2. Leaving Colorado was a little harder than I thought it would be.
3. Dallas is pretty close to Lawton, OK (where Oma lives). Dallas is a long damn ways from Houston. The road goes on and on. Texas is so big they gave up on naming towns. The just starting picking words at random from a dictionary. "Happy, TX? Smiley, TX? Jolly, TX?" Weren't they all dwarfs?
4. Houston is a long damn way from Houston. We hit the city limits and it was another 30 miles to the city.
5. The Galleria is a cool mall that is in a cool neighborhood built for 5,000 residents and guests. It attracts 50,000 people a day.
6. How is it possible to get stuck in 2 traffic jams on two different highways in 1 hour?
7. My wife is insane over a place called Braums. They make shakes. She loses her mind when she sees a pink ice cream cone on the side of the road.
8. I didn't pack enough clothing. Or I packed all the wrong stuff.
9. Finding the harbor on a Sunday afternoon was the best idea I've hand in years.
10. Right now Houston doesn't seem so bad.
all the love
First Day
My hair did NOT look like this when we left Denver!! It's the end of our first full day here, and I'm excited and nervous to get up and go to work tomorrow morning. Thankfully, it's still a little surreal and hard to imagine so my worries are not clear enough to bother me yet. Having started a couple of new jobs in the last couple of years, I can say with some authority... I hate this part. If I had a time machine with a limited number of uses (maybe like 10, but not if I only had 2 or 3); it would be worth it to spend one to get past all of the initial awkwardness and get to working and relating in this new capacity. It's easy to compare jobs to relationships but hard to apply the same skills. If this were just getting to know someone, a sizeable glass of wine over a good dinner could provide me with a jump-start, but at work, I have to rely on my own skills under the fluorescent lights. Here goes...
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